Unmarked

by Kami Garcia

  “If he’s telling the truth, there’s a vengeance spirit inside.” Alara held her arm out in front of Elle to prevent her from getting any closer to Dimitri, or the jar. “You trap the spirit in a glass container and take it to the home of the person you want to hex. To release the vengeance spirit, you break the glass and bury the pieces nearby, usually in the person’s yard. The spirit can’t leave the place where the pieces are buried, unless people like us come along and destroys it.”

  Dimitri raised the jar higher. “Or someone like me brings another Battle Cruet to trap it.”

  “How will your black magic jar prove anything?” Elle asked him.

  But I already knew.

  “Someone has to destroy the vengeance spirit inside, or the innocent victim of its wrath will never have any peace,” Dimitri explained. “Kennedy’s area of expertise is symbols and invocation. All she has to do is draw a symbol that will destroy the spirit. If she’s a member of the Legion, she’ll earn her mark.”

  “That’s the demon tattoo, right?” Elle whispered to Alara.

  Priest stared at Dimitri, dumbfounded. “How do you know that?”

  “It’s my job to know as much as possible about the Legion of the Black Dove. As I said, we’re fighting for the same cause.”

  Jared stepped in front of me protectively. “She’s not doing it. She doesn’t have to prove anything to you or anyone else.”

  But I could tell from the way Alara, Lukas, and Priest were looking at each other that I did. Dimitri had planted a seed of doubt in their minds.

  Worse, he’d fed the one already planted in mine.

  “I’ll do it.” I needed to know the truth.

  Jared cradled my face in his hands. “Kennedy, you don’t have to do this.”

  Priest’s eyes dropped to the floor.

  Gabriel emerged from between two metal shipping containers, his clothing completely soaked again. “He’s chained up, and I doused him with enough of holy water to drown an elephant.” He walked toward Dimitri. “But they’re still prepping the sanctuary, so we can’t move him yet.”

  Dimitri patted down his pockets, most likely searching for more cigarettes. “That was supposed to be done days ago.”

  “There was some confusion about the cross,” Gabriel said. “It wasn’t an actual altar cross.”

  “Idiots.” Dimitri riffled through his pockets, clearly agitated. “We can’t afford mistakes like this. If Andras hadn’t exerted so much energy terrorizing these kids, chains and holy water might not have been enough to hold him. And without knowing how many souls he’s consumed, there’s no way to predict how long that will last.”

  “Consumed?” Elle whispered to Lukas. “As in…”

  “Possessed and killed,” Dimitri said. “The more souls Andras consumes, the stronger he gets.”

  Gabriel peeled off his wet sweater. Dozens of black tattoos covered his right arm—the Eye of Providence, a hooked X, and other symbols I didn’t recognize. His left arm appeared to be bare until he turned, and I noticed a strange tattoo on the inside of his forearm. A Medieval cross, with a hawk in the center, and Latin script running down the bottom.

  I pictured the letters and scrolled through lists of words in my mind for English root words to help me translate the Latin. But for some reason, I couldn’t up the last few letters of the tattoo. Something was wrong. I just looked at the tattoo a second ago, which meant my eidetic memory had already recorded the image. I glanced at Gabriel’s arm again. The symbols looked exactly the same, but he was standing too far away for me to see the script clearly.

  My eyes must be tired.

  I closed my eyes for a second and opened them again. I still couldn’t read the writing, and Gabriel hadn’t moved since he took off his sweater.

  How did I see them before?

  “What are you staring at?” Alara asked.

  I looked away, embarrassed she’d noticed. “The weird cross on Gabriel’s arm.”

  “It’s another Illuminati symbol,” she said.

  Gabriel noticed the jar in Dimitri’s hand. “Looks like I interrupted something.”

  Dimitri shook the jar. “Kennedy still believes she’s a member of the Legion. I offered her a way to find out for sure.”

  “Why torture yourself, kid?” Gabriel asked.

  I swallowed hard. “Open it.”

  “Not yet. You need to be ready,” Dimitri said. “Draw a symbol capable of destroying the spirit, then I’ll give it to you.”

  Alara took the black marker out of her tool belt and handed it to me. “Show them what you’ve got.”

  I nodded and knelt on the cold concrete floor, picturing the symbol I planned to draw.

  The Devil’s Trap.

  The symbol I’d used to destroy Darien Shears, the spirit who had warned me not to assemble to Shift.

  I should’ve listened.

  I drew the outer circle first, then a heptagram with a seven-pointed star in the middle. My mind had recorded every detail—the symbol in the center of the star, the names inside the heptagram: Samael, Raphael, Anael, Gabriel, Michael…

  When I finished, I stood up and tossed the marker at Dimitri’s feet. “Done.”

  He walked around the symbol, nodding. “Impressive. You certainly have the gift.”

  “It’s her specialty,” Jared said, sounding proud.

  “We call them gifts,” Dimitri said. “Some Illuminati members have them as well.”

  “Open it.” My throat felt like sandpaper.

  I want this over.

  Dimitri held out the jar. “The cruet has to be broken, not opened. You should be the one to release the spirit.”

  “That leaves no room for doubt,” Gabriel said, from where he stood watching.

  My hand closed around the glass, and I carried the War Jar into the center of the Devil’s Trap.

  “Stand on the outside,” Alara called out.

  Of course. Such an amateur mistake.

  I moved outside the symbol and leaned over, stretching toward the center. A gray mist swirled behind the glass. The wax slid beneath my fingers and I let the jar drop, yanking my arm back.

  The glass shattered, and waxy shards spun across the floor.

  My pulse raced as the vengeance spirit materialized. Dirty sneakers and worn jeans covered with mud… bloody hands gripping a wooden handle… the dull, bloodstained blade of an axe. The woman’s face took a moment to solidify, her features twisted into a deadly expression. The hate in her eyes was unmistakable.

  And all that blood.

  “I told him if he hurt me again, I’d kill him,” she said, looking right at me. The woman walked toward me, balancing the axe on her shoulder. “You were supposed to protect me, but none of you cowards did a damn thing.”

  When she reached the outer circle of the Devil’s Trap, her body convulsed as if she’d touched an electrified fence. The force threw her back into the center of the symbol.

  Just like Damien Shears.

  But she wasn’t as strong as Shears. As she struggled to get up, her form began to fade. She pointed a bloody finger at me. “I’ll see you in hell.”

  The spirit cried out in pain, and her body flickered one last time. Then it exploded into millions of tiny particles.

  Don’t wait. It’ll only make it harder.

  I reached into my pocket and scooped out a handful of salt. The next few minutes would change my life, one way or another.

  I rubbed the crystals over my wrist and stared at the scuffed toes of my boots.

  The minutes ticked by and the questions started coming.

  What if the mark didn’t show up and I wasn’t the fifth member of the Legion? Would my friendships vanish like the tiny bits of the vengeance spirit I had just destroyed? Who else would Faith have chosen? My deadbeat of a father?

  I kept my eyes fixed on the concrete, my boots, the edge of the Devil’s Trap—anything to avoid my friend’s faces as they waited for the moment that would determine my fate.


  It’s been long enough.

  I turned my wrist over and flexed my fingers.

  The moment was here.

  20. LION’S DEN

  I raised my eyes slowly, wanting to know the truth and not wanting to know at the same time. I stared down at my wrist.

  Unmarked.

  I held my breath, afraid to move.

  I’m not one of them.

  I drew the Devil’s Trap that destroyed the spirit in the War Jar, and I watched Jared and Lukas bury my aunt, the fifth member of the Legion. This time, there were no loopholes left. I remembered waiting for my mark inside the West Virginia State Penitentiary. I’d been so sure the lines were carving themselves into my skin.

  But they weren’t.

  That night broke me. At least, I thought it had. But it was nothing compared how I felt right now—shattered, empty, alone, hopeless.

  Let this be another nightmare. Let me wake up.

  “Kennedy?” Jared sounded nervous, which meant he saw it too.

  “I’m sorry, kid.” Gabriel said.

  I spun around, still cradling my wrist. “Are you?”

  Dimitri lit another cigarette. “You needed to know the truth.”

  The truth.

  “Even if she isn’t the fifth member of the Legion, that doesn’t prove her mother was Illuminati.” Jared wasn’t giving up on me.

  The fifth member.

  Faith must have picked my father, her only other option.

  Dimitri rubbed his temples. “Your mother didn’t have much family, did she, Kennedy? Just one sister, and I’m willing to bet they weren’t close. The Order of the Enlightened never chooses operatives with close family ties. It’s one of the criterion for selection.”

  “What did you call them?” Alara sounded stunned.

  Dimitri flicked his ash on the floor. “The Order of the Enlightened. Do you recognize the name?”

  Alara tensed behind me. “No. I thought you said something else.”

  She was lying.

  “The Order of the Enlightened operated outside the laws of our organization. They were engaged in dangerous behavior, which the Illuminati wasn’t even aware of,” Dimitri said. “After your father left, we sent someone to speak with your mother and try to reason with her.”

  I squared my shoulders, trying to look confident. “I don’t believe you.”

  Dimitri turned to Gabriel. “Please confirm that Elizabeth Waters was one of us.”

  “She was part of the Order. I wouldn’t call her one of us,” Gabriel said.

  “A shepherd is responsible for all his sheep, Gabriel. Even the lost ones.”

  He threw Dimitri a hard look. “Some sheep want to stay lost.”

  “Why don’t you tell Kennedy how you knew her mother?”

  Every muscle in my body tensed. I was still trying to figure out what was wrong with my memory. The last thing I wanted to hear about was how he supposedly knew my mom.

  Gabriel didn’t move for a moment, and I thought the conversation was over. Then he took a deep breath. “I was a member of the Order of the Enlightened, until I figured out what they were really up to, which had nothing to do with the garbage they were feeding us. I told the Illuminati what I’d learned, and they welcomed me back. Eventually, I convinced the Grandmaster your mother was worth saving, too.

  “So I went to your house in Georgetown, the one with the green door. Your father was gone by then.” He smiled to himself, as if he were recalling a fond memory. “Your mom cooked me dinner a few times. She made a killer lasagna, and the best red sauce I’ve ever had in my life.”

  Red sauce. My mom’s signature dish.

  “Anyone can drive by Kennedy’s house and see what color her door is.” Elle said, her tone venomous.

  Gabriel’s smile faded. “I knew that house inside and out. Elizabeth lived there before she married Kennedy’s father.” He turned to me. “I stained those wood floors and built the shelves in the library. Are they still there?”

  I didn’t react. Anyone who’d ever set foot in my house would know about floors and the library shelves.

  “I built a few things you probably never saw, though,” he said. “Your mom had this hidden door in the back of her closet.”

  The words slammed into me, and I couldn’t catch my breath.

  The crawl space.

  I’d never told anyone about the tiny crawl space in my mother’s closet, or the night I spent hidden inside. Not even Elle. My friends knew about my crippling fear of the dark, but no one knew how it started.

  Gabriel was still talking, as the memory crashed over me.

  “Someone’s in the house,” my mom whispered, pulling a board away from the wall to reveal a small opening in the back of her closet. “Stay here until I come back. Don’t make a sound.”

  Don’t make a sound or the bad guys will hear you. That’s what she meant.

  I squeezed inside as she replaced the board, drowning me in darkness. Not the kind of dark where you could see the silhouettes of objects, but a blackness that swallows everything. I closed my eyes and tried to pretend I was still in my bed.

  Then I heard the sounds—the stairs creaking, furniture scraping against the floor, muffled voices. I wished my dad hadn’t left us. He would’ve scared away whoever was in our house. I held my hand against the board, praying for my mom to come back. Eventually, the wood gave beneath my palm and a thin stream of light flooded the space.

  Black splotches exploded in front of my eyes as they adjusted to the light again. I saw the closet floor through the opening—my mom’s red high heels and her fuzzy bedroom slippers. Then her face peering into the crawl space and her arms reaching for me.

  And something else…

  I fought to hold onto to the memory I’d spent my whole life fighting. Usually it ended the moment my mom pulled me out. But there was more—pieces of the memory my mind had repressed.

  As she pulled me out, I glanced back at the terrifying space. An image blurred past—painted on the wall, black like the darkness and the bad guys.

  Don’t look.

  But I already had, I just never remembered until now.

  A Medieval cross with a hawk in the center, and Latin script running down the bottom. The letters I thought I’d seen on Gabriel’s arm, before I realized he was standing too far away. The rest of the tattoo—the part I had seen must’ve broken through whatever wall my mind had built around that night.

  Which means they’re telling the truth about my mom.

  This was worse than not being a member of the Legion.

  “I’m sorry,” Gabriel said. “We shouldn’t be the ones telling you this. I wanted your mother to leave the Order and start over.”

  Elle pushed past us and walked up to Dimitri. “Even if your friend here did wax her floors and raid her fridge, it doesn’t mean Kennedy’s mom was Illuminati.”

  “Maybe they were friends, and Kennedy’s mom had no idea Gabriel was a member of the Order. None of this proves anything.” Jared didn’t believe Gabriel’s story. But he didn’t know about the crawl space, or the symbol.

  He didn’t know it was true.

  “Maybe you were a spy like that guy Archer,” Lukas said. “And you just pretended to be her friend.”

  My mom lied to me and betrayed my dad. She was a member of the Illuminati.

  Jared stormed across the room and grabbed my hand, “She’s not one of you,” he said to Dimitri. “She’s one of us.”

  I glanced at my friends’ faces. Lukas and Elle were staring at Dimitri like they wanted to kill him, but Priest and Alara’s eyes were fixed on the ground.

  They know I’m not one of them.

  Jared tightened his grip on my hand. “You’re wrong.”

  My knees buckled. I felt myself falling, the room and the darkness closing in on me.

  Jared caught me and helped me sit down. “Are you okay?”

  “Of course she’s not okay,” Elle said. “Look at her face. She’s as white as a ghost.
”

  I looked up, and Gabriel was staring at me. “You know I’m telling the truth, don’t you?”

  “Kennedy?” Jared’s eyes searched mine.

  I couldn’t lie to him. “My mom was one of them.”

  21. DIVIDING LINES

  I’m going to check on our guest,” Gabriel said.

  Dimitri nodded. “Never underestimate—”

  “What an animal will do to free itself from a cage,” Gabriel finished. “I know.”

  Jared ignored them and pulled me up. “What’s going on?”

  “Gabriel’s tattoo.” I could barely get the words out. “The cross.”

  Elle rushed over and threw her arm around me.

  Lukas was right behind her. “What about it?”

  “I remember seeing the same one a wall in my mom’s closet.”

  Priest and Alara hung back, but they were listening.

  “That doesn’t mean—” Jared began.

  “Don’t say it doesn’t mean anything.” I shook my head. “You think my mom just happened to have a cross with a hawk and Latin writing all over it, hanging on her wall?” Tears burned my eyes, but I didn’t let them fall. “It means everything.”

  “Dimitri.” Gabriel’s voice echoed from behind the containers. “I need help in here.”

  “We can talk about this later,” Jared said, watching Dimitri.

  Everyone agreed without a word, following Dimitri as he ran between the rows. At the end of the aisle, I caught a glimpse of the dockworker. He was chained in the corner of the room and drenched in holy water.

  Dimitri slipped on his sunglasses and held out his arm, stopping us. “Don’t look the demon in the eye, whatever you do. That’s how he jumps from one body to possess another. He needs to be close to make the switch, but if you don’t know what you’re doing, I wouldn’t take any chances.”

  I remembered the way Andras had stared at the people on the street, before he moved from one body to another.

  The demon thrashed against the chains, and Gabriel looped the bone whip around the demon’s neck. Barbs jutted out from the dozens of vertebrae, teeth, claws, and other small bones that formed the whip. The moment the bones touched Andras, the barbs burrowed deeper into his skin, pulsing and twisting on their own.